The Surprise Party
by MLaw
Summary: A call and response story written with Alynwa in honor of David McCallum's birthday. Who wrote what is indicated by the chapter titles. My final chapter differs from Alynwa's posting. Sort of alternate endings, though great minds think alike! The story is told from Illya and Napoleon's POV. Comments are most welcome!
1. mlaw- Napoleon's pov

The phone rang on Napoleon Solo's desk at eight in the morning. Sitting opposite him at his own desk was his partner who was busy reading a sheet of updates on the international activites of T.H.R.U.S.H.

"Solo here, good morning,"

"Napoleon it's Tommy Lopaka," the head of Security spoke. "There's a catering delivery truck in the loading dock, where do you want them to set up for the 'you know what?"

"They're early." Solo tried to sound normal. "Umm I'll be right there." He quickly hung up the phone and looked at his watch. It was seven a.m.

"Who is early?" Illya's eyes peeked over the top of the paper."

"Umm, Mr. Waverly's next appointment, but he's in a meeting right now. I'll escort them upstairs to a waiting room."

"Why you? That is Security's job is it not?"

"Oh, I just feel like stretching my legs. Want some tea from the Commissary?"

"I will come with you. I could use a walk myself," Illya said.

"Just stay put. I'll bring it back and a piece of danish for your birthday."

"I told you no celebration Napoleon." Kuryakin sat up straight in his chair."

"Will you give me a break, a danish and a cup of tea are hardly a celebration. "

Napoleon strolled out the door, but once around the corner he took off at a dead run. He went straight to the Commissary, picked up the pastry and beverages but called Lopaka on the house phone.

"Tom, have the caterers get everything to the gym and post haste. We don't want Illya to suspect a thing."

"Sure Napoleon no problem. How are you going to get Kuryakin to the gymnasium without him suspecting anything is going on? He's pretty sneaky when it comes to sniffing things out brudda," the big Hawaiian said.

"Tom, I'll figure that out with April and Mark. Thanks."


	2. alynwa Napoleon's pov

I was sitting in April and Mark's office bouncing around ideas as we tried to figure out how to get my birthday – ignoring partner to the gym for his surprise party.

"Maybe we're overthinking it," Mark said before demolishing what was left of his candy bar. "I mean, the party's set, everybody knows about it, The Old Man has promised that, unless the world is ending, we're not being assigned to affairs before Wednesday. All we 'ave to do is get Illya into the gymnasium in a few hours! What is the big bloody deal?"

"Illya is stubborn," I answer, "Actually, I think rejecting the idea of birthday celebrations is his way of protecting himself."

"Oh, so you think he cares, but prefers to act like he doesn't?" April asked.

"Something like that," I reply, "Remember how we literally had to chase him around the building when we wanted to take him out to dinner?* When Glenna, Marian and some of the other support staff approached me about throwing him a party, I started to say no, but I really think a party might be _just_ what Illya needs. He's been wound up tight as a drum for the last few days, I have no idea why."

I watched April reapply her lipstick and check her look in the mirror and for the umpteenth time, felt a twinge of envy that such a beautiful woman found Illya attractive. _She's so good for him._ "Do you have an idea, April?"

She smiled mysteriously and said, "Of course, Darling. You and Illya meet Mark and me when I call. Leave it to me."

"Okay, see you two later." I left their office and headed back to Illya' and my office. "Hey, Tovarisch, I thought you were working in the lab this morning."

"I was just about to leave; I needed to get some notes from my desk. Just then his phone rang. "Kuryakin. Hi, April. What? I see, well, I was planning to eat at my desk…All right. Of course. I will. See you later." He replaced the handset in its cradle. "April wants to have lunch with us as she and Mark have to fly out to Idaho late this afternoon."

"That works for me," I said as I shrugged and pull some reports from my IN box. "Did she say what time?"

"Between noon and twelve – thirty, she will call when they are ready."

At twelve – fifteen, the office door slid open to reveal my Russian. "She called you?"

"Yes, she and Mark are dancing in the gym in preparation for their mission and want us to critique their routine before we go to the Canteen."

I knew that everyone who was attending had been instructed to be inside no later than noon and I was hoping there weren't any stragglers. We got to the door and, as I knew he would, Illya opened the door to allow me to go through first. I put my hand on the door and indicated that he go ahead of me.

He stepped in and froze in his tracks when he saw everyone in the place looking at him.

"Happy Birthday, Illya!" we all yelled before bursting in applause.


	3. mlaw ch3 Illya's pov

As soon as I stepped into the gymnasium, I knew something was wrong, Illya told himself.

The lights were out, and I thought that odd.

"Surprise! Happy Birthday Illya!"

My heart went up into my throat. Why did he do this when I specifically asked...no told Napoleon that I did not want any birthday nonsense?

As I looked around at the decorations, saw all the smiling faces and smelled the aroma of food. I knew a lot of trouble had been taken to do this for me. I looked over at Napoleon who merely shrugged.

He handed me a shot of vodka, wishing me happy birthday.

"S dnem rozhdeniya, moy drug." Solo flashed me one of his charming smiles.

"What could I do? Now was not the time or the place for an argument, much less a fist fight which was something I could easily start with the way I was feeling at the moment.

"Spasibo," I raised my glass to him. "I will get even with you later my friend."

"Moi?" Napoleon said."This actually wasn't my doing, but now's not the time. You have your adoring fans who await you with good wishes and gifts."

I put on my best face, nodding as people came up to me, shaking my hand, kissing me on the cheek and handing me small gift boxes...though some were not. I eyed them suspiciously, hoping they were not any of those loud ski sweaters that a few of the ladies in the secretarial pool insist upon knitting for me. There was card after card...

Napoleon took each from my hands one by one and placed them on a nearby table as the music began to play. At first there was wonderful Russian music being played, it was balalaikas...Kalinka! Then came Russian gypsy music. Such memories!

The mirror ball, used for special celebrations at headquarters was lowered down, illuminated by spotlights of varying colors. It filled the room with a thousand points of light as people began to dance.

April came up to me, positively glowing with exuberance and planted a kiss on my lips.

"Happy birthday you mad Russian...well don't be mad at me. Everyone deserves to have a happy birthday. Now come on and dance with me?"

I begged off, trying to be as gracious as possible, instead choosing to head toward the buffet that had been set up. I was hungry, after all we were supposed to have been having lunch, though that was now obviously part of the ruse to get me here.

The food I had to admit, was enticing. Whoever had done the catering had all sorts of Russian foods here along with plenty of American ones. There was lamb-kebab Shashlik, something I had not had in very long time, as well as blini, borscht, creamed potatoes, golubtsy and so much more!

For a moment, being surrounded by all this Russian food made me feel a bit homesick, though home never had such plenty as this. I suddenly found myself missing people, my people and speaking my native language on a daily basis. Who was I kidding, that would never be my life again?

Still, no matter how acclimated I had become to living here in the United States, I was still a stranger in a strange land. Yet here I was surrounded by people who were wishing only good things for me, people who thought of themselves as my friends. That was something I did not want to admit, except when it came to my partner.

I was being rude to them all and I decided it was time to fake it for their sakes, not mine.

I smiled.

"That's more like it darling," April came up to me just as I just stuffed a pelmeni into my mouth.

"Don't try to talk, eat. Enjoy yourself. It's your birthday."

I nodded my thanks; that was the least I could do...


	4. alynwa ch 4 Napoleon's pov

I had moved closer to speak to Mark when Illya went to look at the buffet. I watched as Illya popped a pelmeni into his mouth and smiled briefly. He and April moved down the table looking at the choices before both picked up plates and helping themselves to food.

I clapped Mark's shoulder in triumph. "I think this is a success! He told me he's going to get me, but he'll find out that I didn't have anything to do with this, not at all."

"It doesn't 'urt either, Mate, that my partner is over there smoothing things over and that the girls in the secretarial pool insisted that authentic Russian food be served along with American favorites. Speaking of which, let's eat before it's gone, eh?"

When Illya and April had gotten their food and gone to find a table that was everyone else's signal to eat. We walked over, grabbed plates and got in line. Marian was right in front of me and I tapped her shoulder to get her attention. "Great idea you and Glenna had about using Boris' Best Catering, this food looks great! In fact, I'm going to eat the Russian stuff because no one's lasagna is better than mine!"

Marian grinned from ear to ear when I complimented her and Glenna's idea. "Why, thank you, Napoleon!" She leaned in closer and when I bent down, she whispered in my ear, "Don't tell anyone, but I broke my diet wide open by tasting everything as we set it up; it's all good, but definitely make sure you get some beef Stroganoff, the cabbage leaves stuffed with rice and beef, the black bread and some blini and caviar. Oh, and the soups! Oh, who am I kidding? Just get everything!"

I had to laugh at her enthusiasm. I turned around to tell Mark and realized I was too late. He had two plates, one with salads and one with hot foods. "Wow, Mark! Leave some for someone else!"

"Everyman for 'imself, Mate! I'm starving!"

I glanced around to see that the food was indeed popular, so I piled my plate high and went in search of April and Illya. As I expected, they were sitting at a table by the wall. April had a glass of sbiten in her hand sipping delicately while my partner was demolishing several lamb kababs.

"Mind if Mark and I join you guys?" Without waiting for an answer, we sat down and I have to admit: My first forkful of food was so good, I inhaled everything. When I finally stopped to take a breath, I wiped my mouth and asked, "So, Partner Mine, what do you think of your party?"


	5. mlaw ch 5 Illya's pov

I slowly leaned closer to my partner, pausing for a moment. Should I tell him how I really feel? No now was not the right time. Perhaps tomorrow. At the moment I was enjoying the music of Django Reinhardt that was playing on the phonograph.

He was an exquisite Romani guitarist, and it was a miracle he escaped being killed by the Nazis during the war, unlike so many of my gypsy brethren.

"The food is wonderful, as are the music and company," I finally answered.

"That's it tovarisch?"

"That is all you are going to get for the moment, and now I am going back to the buffet for more. There is also some Russian standard vodka that is calling to me." I rose from the table and walked away before Napoleon could question me further.

Suddenly someone, Rob from translations began to sing the Russian birthday song. When he was finished everyone else broke into the birthday song in English.

Cookie from the Commissary appeared rolling a trolley with a rather sumptuous chocolate cake on top.

After cutting the first slice, I handed over the knife to Glenna, who apparently baked the cake.

"Oh Illya!" she smiled, "I hope you're enjoying yourself."

"Yes it is quite lovely."

"Illya," Adrienne swooped in, snuggling close to me."Can I have the next dance? I asked for something we could do the boogaloo to. I have it on good source that you can really really shake it up on the dance floor."

"Good source? Hmm, well perhaps later. I need to get something to eat, thank you."

Adrienne stared at me as I walked away, making a beeline for the buffet while the others lined up for their cake. It took me several tries to get there as Linda who handles the UNCLE newsletter grabbed hold of me.

She seemed to want to say something, but suddenly clammed up, but not before she giggled.

"It is okay Linda, we will talk later. Your Ukrainian honey cake was most delicious, thank you."

Next it was Dawn, standing there in her black dress with her blood red scarf wrapped around her lovely throat.

I stopped for just a moment, remembering our little Valentine role-playing rendezvous.

"Hello Zarya."

"Hi Illyusha, I hope you're enjoying yourself."

"I am trying, though you know these social situations are difficult for me."

"I understand. We'll talk later if you like."

Thanking her, I finally made it to the buffet and got myself a second helping of just about everything.

Every mouthful of food made me think of home more and more. I remembered my mama's pelmeni, and baba's borscht...cabbage with sour cream.

Making a mental note, I reminded myself to visit Brighton Beach more often. There I could freely speak Russian, and eat in the company of Russians and Ukrainians.

As little as I spoke Russian, I spoke Ukrainian less and no Roma at all. English, that was it for the most part, and though I had no problem speaking it everyday I still missed speaking Russian...being Russian.

Still the trouble these people went to for bringing in Russian food and music said a lot...

Ahhh, the music was starting to ramp up a bit, but I am not going to dance. I cannot celebrate. If they only knew the real reason why.

Illya sat in a corner, his plate of food in front of him on the table, though he was only picking at it. He wanted to be invisible, though it was hard given the party was for him.

The spot he chose was in the shadows, away from any lights. There had been a candle on the table but that was quickly extinguished.

I felt like I was done being sociable, for now.


	6. alynwa ch 6 Napoleon's pov

I was watching Illya from the dance floor where I was doing what I thought was a respectable Monkey with Mandy from Translations. I saw him politely, but firmly turn down several offers to dance, leaving several very disappointed women in his wake. He made small talk as people approached him, but barely slowed down until he found a table at the very edge of the party.

I didn't want people to feel miffed, so I pushed the Solo Charm into maximum overdrive. Every woman I danced with I thanked profusely on my partner's behalf for helping to plan and/or participating in Illya's party. I smoothed a lot of ruffled feathers. Yes, he _loved_ the food, of _course_ he appreciates the effort, he's just feeling a little overwhelmed by this outpouring of affection. I almost started to believe it myself. Almost.

Something was bothering him and it was more than just having a party thrown for him that he had said he didn't want. From the moment he had walked into the gym, his mood had changed. He wasn't angry, it was more like he was… _sad. Tovarisch, what's wrong?_ I thought at him. I was willing him to look in my direction and he actually did. I signaled him _What's wrong?_ and he gave his head a slight shake that only I could see and averted his eyes. I went to where April and Mark were dancing and asked, "Mind if I cut in?"

Mark said, "I don't mind. I'll get us some drinks, Luv."

April began to do her best Jerk when I took hold of her hands and placed one on my back and held the other and began to lead her in a sultry Salsa. "Did Illya say anything to you about…anything?"

Her red hair flipped as she shook her head _no_. "I was actually going to ask you the same question, Darling. He seems distracted and _dejected,_ somehow. I almost want to cry."

"I know what you mean. I've been doing my best to deflect attention from him, not an easy task since it's _his_ party. It's a good thing the food and the music's so good; some people I'm sure aren't even focused on him."

"Napoleon Darling, I think you're right. Look, everyone's grabbing leftovers to take back to their offices. It's a good thing this was a lunchtime event. Mark and I have a meeting with Accounting this afternoon. Apparently, Mark and I have to explain why we ruined two cars and three hotel rooms during our last affair. Are you going to ask Illya about his mood?"

"Of course, I am," I answered before I kissed her cheek and released her. "Good luck with Accounting." I watched her rejoin her partner before they exited the gym. Others were leaving too and I watched as people made a point of stopping first to wish Illya well. I waited until only the janitorial staff was left cleaning before I approached him. "Illya? Are you heading back to the lab?"

He nodded and then seemed to decide a verbal answer was better. "Yes. I will probably be there the rest of the day."

"I thought so. Listen. Dinner. My place. Seven sharp." I held up my right index finger when he opened his mouth. "I'm not accepting 'no' for an answer." To his credit, he shrugged and left. I knew he'd come. "Hey!" I yelled at the cleaners, "I'm taking one of those honey cakes! Don't you dare cut it!"


	7. mlaw - conclusion

(The inspiration for this chapter was the song "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac. The words and music were perfect to set the mood.)

Illya Kuryakin sat alone on the roof of UNCLE Headquarters; he'd retreated there. The surprise birthday party that was sprung on him at lunch time in the gymnasium weighed heavily on his shoulders.

At first he was angry. He'd asked Napoleon not to do anything and had told the American time and again he did not celebrate his birthday. To Kuryakin it was just another day.

Why did they have to do it? He groaned in silence.

Illya held back his anger, as he could see the joy in the eyes of his fellow agents, the secretaries and so many people who worked there at headquarters. They wanted so badly to make him happy; he nodded, thanked and went along with it, going through the motions.

While the music played he watched others dance, but waved the women off who asked him to join them on the gymnasium floor. He filled a plate of food from the buffet and ate, again nodding to everyone who gave him birthday wishes. He still had to go through those gifts he received.

He moaned, that would entail personal thank you's to each and every person who'd given him something.

Before the end of the party he finally disappeared. He was good at that, at being invisible, that's what Illya Kuryakin always did. His father's last words to him... papa told him to stay invisible.

Illya canted his head to the side, listening to the sound of footsteps in the gravel covered roof and knew instantly who it was.

"Yes Napoleon?"

"Why are you up here?" Solo pulled up a milk crate beside his partner.

"Thinking about yesterday. You know I am not the most sociable of people, and still you organized a party to celebrate my birthday, though I asked you not to. Why, may I ask, did you go against my wishes?"

"It wasn't me. There were other conspirators who actually organized it without my knowledge initially. What could I do; I was outnumbered and had to go along with it."

"Do not tell me...April, Wanda, Heather and the other ladies?"

"Oh a few more people than that. Dawn, Marian, Glenna, Adrienne, Linda; that's the short list. Illya why won't you tell me the reason you don't like to celebrate your birthday?"

Kuryakin let out a long sigh, one of resignation. He supposed it was time to tell his partner. Though he was getting older, he was was afraid of change, afraid of revealing things.

It was perhaps time to climb that mountain, and turn around to look back. Would doing so create a landslide of pity from Napoleon? Illya handled the seasons of his life the same way year after year avoiding entanglements, friendships...maybe happiness, but was it was time to change how he did things?

Yes, with Napoleon it was. He began his tale with a sigh.

"The Nazis invaded Kyiv not long after my birthday. In the weeks that followed thousands died at their hands. I watched my mother and my baby twin brothers murdered by them. It is a sight I will never forget and a horror no child should have to ever witness. The last time I saw my mother smile was on my birthday. Without going into further detail, that was the last birthday I ever celebrated," Illya spoke dispassionately, though Napoleon could see a sadness in his partner's eyes.

"Birthdays are nothing of significance when people are in the middle of a war, or ...or in a prison camp or an orphanage. I know you are aware that I became a street orphan, a _bespriorzi_. In the orphanages, birthdays are meaningless until you turn sixteen, then you are shipped off into a life of servitude like my friend Natasha.* She was sent away on my birthday. I however, was lucky; I was sent to a school because I was intelligent which kept me from being sent to a farming collective. You see my birthday has represented nothing but sadness and the loss of my family and friends. That was why I have avoided it."

"Illya I…"

"Let me finish Napoleon. In Soviet Union we were required to spy upon and turn in our loved ones and friends. That is why I stopped letting people into my life; I had no wish to send someone I cared for to the gulag or worse. There were people with whom I was friendly, but never friends, that would not do."

Napoleon could see Illya was struggling with his words. "You don't have to…"

"Yes I do. Until I was partnered with you, I had no true friend. Yet with you I let down my guard and opened the door. I permitted you inside. I trusted you as a partner and a friend, and now I trust you with some of my secrets."

"Illya I'm now honored, but you have to realize you do have other friends here, and we're family here at UNCLE. We can't change your past, we can't make the terrible things you've experienced go away, but tovarisch you can't let them bring you down. You're older, you have a good life here and and important job. You're surrounded by people who care about you, and I know deep down inside you care about them too, like April and Mark, and George Dennell, to name a few."

Illya continued staring out from the rooftop, looking out at the twinkling lights of the city.

"Tovarisch, your past is your past; chapters in the book that is your life. You're writing new chapters now, good chapters. It's time to close out those old ones. Time to embrace the positive. You're not going back to your old life, that I promise tovarisch...no, moy brat. Do you understand me? Yesterday was your day, your future... not your past."

Kuryakin looked like he was near to tears. He stood as did Solo and they grabbed each other in a bear hug.

"Thank you Napoleon," Illya whispered in his ear.

As they separated the Russian wiped his eyes with his fingers.

"Now come on buddy, I have it on good authority that there's leftover birthday cake in the walk in fridge in the Commissary. Oh and here, I did get you a present, even though every year you tell me not to. I just decided not to give it to you last night. Don't be mad at me for wanting to get my partner a gift...remember last year I gave it to you as an 'un-birthday' gift. Try to think of it that was.

Solo held out a small foil wrapped box. "Go ahead and open it now. We'll keep it private just between you and me."

Illya wouldn't lie, he liked getting his birthday gift from his partner, and secretly he hoped Napoleon would have one for him. He never had anyone do such a thing for him and in turn having the American as a friend gave him the opportunity to share in this gift giving thing of birthdays and the Christmas holiday.

Illya tore the silver paper and opened the small black velvet box. He opened it and inside it was a gold tie tack, a disc engraved with his initials, INK.

Set in it was brilliant blue star sapphire, the same kind of stone in Napoleon's own pinky ring. It was obvious Solo had it custom made for him.

"Thank you Napoleon, it is beautiful and I will cherish it."

"Glad you like it tovarisch, one word of advice; just don't wear it while on assignment," Napoleon winked.

"Sage advice my friend." Illya snapped the box closed and tuck it into his jacket pocket.

"Okay tovarisch, I do believe there's that birthday cake waiting for us downstairs."

"Is there any honey cake left" Illya finally smiled.

"Absolutely," Napoleon grinned.

* ref to my stories: "Beginnings, The Orphanage" and White Nights" under Mlaw on


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